Leather and Lace
by actresswithoutastage
Summary: The story of Cinna's journey as a rebel against the capital and winning the heart of a mysterious Avox boy. rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**This is basically Cinna's backstory. I'm starting it 10 years before his death and carrying it all the way through to the end of cannon for him. I haven't seen anything like this and I am really excited about it. There might be spoilers once I get into the time frame of Hunger Games cannon. I made up a few characters but the bulk of this is the genius of Suzanne Collins. I hope you guys enjoy and please review!**

**Leather and Lace**

**By: Actresswithoutastage**

**Chapter 1**

Cinna took a deep breath as he rode up the elevator with Luxuria and the rest of Caesar's prep team. He liked Caesar well enough, he always chatted amiably with him while he applied layers of makeup to the man's aging face. But he hated Luxuria. The entitled stylist had taken all his sketches when he had been hired 6 months ago and had used them as her own.

At first he had railed against it, almost said something, but Crispin, one of the senior members of the prep team, had convinced him otherwise. "You'd best calm down and keep your mouth shut if you want to see the Capital, kid. The last person that went up against Luxuria ended up executed during a live broadcast."

So Cinna suffered in silence as he began sewing clothes for the Hunger Games host that should bear his name.

The elevator sounded with a merry "_ding!" _shaking Cinna out of his memories and he dolefully followed the crowd of people down the hall. For all its excesses you couldn't deny the beauty of the Capitol, he thought as he walked. The hallway was done up in ivory and gold, making a grand impression as they made their way toward to huge oak doors which swept open when Luxuria reached them to reveal the largest, most extravagant dining room Cinna had ever seen. Once they were seated, surrounded by wide-eyed tributes, grim faced mentors, and excited capitol officials, President Snow stood up to give a speech which Cinna tuned out for the most part. The white haired man had always given him a deep sense of unease.

Finally it was time to eat and Cinna looked around eagerly as a large group of Avox servants came laden with huge covered dishes. When they finally reached him he looked up eagerly, thinking about breaking with manners and snatching the dish out of the servant's hands when he encountered the most incredible pair of eyes he had ever seen.

The Avox boy serving him was maybe his age or a year or two younger, with sharp features and full lips. His jet black hair contrasted sharply with skin so pale he could have blended in with the walls in the hall. But it was his eyes that really held Cinna's attention. They were a deep green with flecks of lighter shades that made his irises look like twin forest canopies. And they were staring straight into his own light brown ones without a hint of the subservient manner that he had encountered so far in the capital workers.

"T—thank you." Cinna said haltingly as the boy ladled some sort of soup into his bowl.

The boy gave Cinna a mocking bow and moved down the table.

Cinna had trouble keeping his eyes off the green-eyed servant for the rest of the meal. He had a way of moving that totally captivated him. It was graceful and fluid, like water or the wind. After a while he noticed that the boy wasn't looking anyone else in the eye, only him. This knowledge caused a rush of pleasure to course through him and he smiled as he finished off desert. After several minutes of what must have been a fairly dopey expression on Cinna's part, Crispin leaned over to him.

"You look exhausted, kid. Go on upstairs. I'll tell the dragon that you're sick or something." He said with a fatherly smile. About that time the green-eyed boy approached again.

"Avox!" Crispin said, "See master Cinna up to his room and anything else he requires."

Cinna tried not to be excited by the prospect of being alone with this mysterious boy but he failed rather miserably. As the boy lead him to the elevator, he bounced on the balls of his feet, starting to feel the effects of the wine he had drank with dinner. "I haven't lived in the Capital long." He said, trying to fill the silence

"I grew up in 1. Luxuria was there for a victory tour, she has been a stylist for the Games forever, and I ran into her. Literally, and my sketch book fell out of my pocket and she saw it and hired me on the spot. I couldn't believe it." Cinna realized he had been rambling and abruptly stopped to look at the other boy, who bore a faintly amused expression.

"Did they really cut out your tongue?" Cinna asked softly, his own expression turning somber.

Instead of acknowledging his question, the servant, jerked his head to the side and suddenly, Cinna realized they were standing in front of the door to Luxuria's apartments. The Avox boy seemed to have an uncanny ability to convey a question with his facial expressions. _Anything else you require? _his look said.

"Honestly? Not really. I do for myself for the most part…but I would really love the company if it won't get you into trouble."

The other man raised his eyebrow in question.

"If I'm in my room talking to you I don't have to be out in the main room listening to Luxuria talk about herself." Cinna said by way of explanation.

The Avox shrugged and gestured for Cinna to lead the way into the room.

Once the door was securely closed behind them, Cinna gestured to the chair on the far side of the room. "Sit down." The Avox did so with a wary expression.

For several awkward moments they merely stared at one another until Cinna finally felt ridiculous. "I wish I had something to call you." He blurted nervously.

The Avox looked animated for the first time since they met and made an excited gesture, asking for a pen and paper.

"In the drawer behind you." Cinna said quickly.

The Avox scribbled something on the pad he found in the drawer and handed it to him.

Cinna stared at the single word for a long time before saying it out loud. "Alancon?" he said looking at the boy questioningly. "Like the lace?"

He nodded in response.

Cinna opened his mouth to say something else but at that moment they both froze at the sound of a knock at the door.

Alancon quirked his eyebrow again.

"Luxuria." He said and opened the door.

"Cenci," said the older woman, she was forever calling Cinna by the wrong name. "I need those sketches for the tribute interviews by morning."

"Yes, Luxuria." Cinna mumbled.

The woman walked away without another word and Cinna gratefully closed the door behind her and shot a relieved look at Alancon.

The look quickly faded into resignation as he moved to pull out his sketch book. "I have to finish these. I will probably be up all night but…if you could stay a little longer." He wasn't sure why but having Alancon's silent presence made him feel calmer; happier than he had been since he had been hired by Luxuria.

In answer, the other man held out his hand. He wanted to see the sketch book.

After a second's hesitation, Cinna rolled over to the other side of his bed and pulled something from underneath it. "That one is just the sketches I do for Luxuria." He said, nodding toward the first book, "_these_ are the clothes that I want to make." He said and handed Alancon the leather-bound sketch pad.

He had never shown anyone his second sketch pad but there was something about the green-eyed boy that he trusted. Alancon took the book from his hands and began to turn the pages. For a very long time Alancon didn't look up. When he finally did it was to fix Cinna with a look of such awe and admiration that he was forced to look away and blushed profusely.

"You like them?" he asked.

"_More than like."_ Alancon was speaking with his eyes again. He began to flip back through, pointing at his favorites, using his face, hands, and occasionally the note pad, to make suggestions or complement a particular piece. After a while of this, Cinna forced himself back to Luxuria's sketches. Alancon was helpful here too. As Cinna discovered, Alancon had worked for Caesar for a short time when he was first brought to the Capital.

Somewhere around 3:30 that morning, Cinna finished the sketches and Alancon was still there despite Cinna's insistence that he should get some rest. He thought he would drop right off to sleep but he laid there for several hours, rambling to his companion.

"I don't want to do this forever. I want to..I want to make a difference you know, I want to help people. I don't think it's right, what they did to you. No one should have their voice taken away." His voice trailed off after a while. "I wish I could sleep." He said and looked at Alancon.

The other man smiled, stood, and walked to the bed. He gestured silently for Cinna to sit up and began unlacing and pulling off the knee high leather boots from Cinna's feet, then pulled him up from the bed and began helping him out of the several layers of clothes he had worn that day. Now down to his boxers in front of the other man and feeling a bit awkward, he was bidden to lie back in the bed and had the covers pulled over him and pillows arranged to his liking.

"You don't have to-" Cinna began to protest, but was cut off by the look in Alancon's eyes. "Thank you." He said instead.

Alancon turned off the lights, retreated to his chair and began to hum the most beautiful tune. Cinna would wager that before his voice was taken he had been a beautiful singer.

"That's really pretty." He said sleepily.

Just before he drifted off he thought he felt a warm hand on his cheek and then heard the soft click of the door closing. When he woke the next morning there was a note on his bedside table in the Avox's neat script.

_Stay strong. _

Suddenly the prospect of spending the day with Luxuria didn't seem so bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2! I thank those of you who added this story to your alerts or reviewed it, I love getting feedback. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! I don't own The Hunger Games or Cinna. **

**Chapter 2**

Alencon didn't make it back to the servent's quarters until nearly dawn.

"Where have you been you lazy thief!" a gruff voice demanded from behind him.

Alencon whirled around to face Greedor, the guard who patrolled the Avox quarters at night. Whether Greedor was a first or last name Alencon never bothered to find out. He was mean for sport and was forever asking the Avox servants questions even though he knew that they couldn't answer.

Alencon pulled the pad of paper and pen he had kept from Cinna's room and scribbled his answer on it.

_I have been assisting Master Cinna in Madam Luxuria's suite_

He handed the paper to Greedor who stared at it for several seconds before throwing it back at him. Alencon had long suspected that Greedor could not read but merely pretended to keep his position.

Most of the Avox could read and write. Alencon never knew if this was out of necessity because it was one of the few ways they had to communicate or if they were taught these things before they became slaves of the capital.

He was of the latter group, His mother had taught him to read and write long ago and he was never more grateful for it than when the Capital soldiers cut out his tongue and brought him here as it had eased his way. Some of the others had begun speaking with their hands, but they were forbidden from doing so, so they only communicated this way in the Avox quarters.

Alencon had just closed his eyes when Greedor came to wake them. With a groan, he stood, dressed and headed to get his assignment for the day. With delight he discovered he had been assigned to Madam Luxuria's quarters. When he arrived, however, it was to find the stylist towering over Cinna, shouting at him about something.

"The Hunger Games begins in one week and you don't have the sketches finished?" she bellowed.

"You told me to finish the sketches for the Tribute presentation. I did those. You didn't tell me you wanted-"

"I have to _tell you _now when I want something done? Just...start working on them!" With that, Luxuria stomped off and started yelling at one of the seamstresses.

Alencon came and tapped Cinna on the shoulder.

The other boy jumped slightly and spun around. When he realized who was trying to get his attention, his face lit up. "Hi!" he said "Are you here to work or...?"

Alencon nodded.

"Um, you'd better stay out of Luxuria's way. She's on the war path." Cinna said, looking down nervously as if the woman was still standing over him shouting.

Alencon moved to stand a few feet from where Cinna was working, only moving when he was asked to do something, which was rare as most of the style team was trying to look busy and Luxuria herself simply ordered one of her team to fetch her anything she required.

This gave him plenty of time to study the young man. He wasn't sure why, but he found Cinna endlessly fascinating. The way he moved, the look of intense concentration he got when he was working that softened into a faint smile when he looked up at Alencon, and even the way he bore Luxuria's constant and unwarranted criticism in stoic silence.

After nearly 15 hours, Luxuria was finally satisfied with the progress they had made and called an end to work for the day. Alencon watched as Cinna closed his eyes and heaved a tired sigh as he packed up his sketch book and pencils and headed toward his room, shooting a meaningful look at the Avox over his shoulder.

"_Meet me later._" it said.

Alencon quickly went about his other duties, making absolutely sure no one would need him again before he headed back to Cinna as fast as he could without running. He knocked softly on the door to the other man's room and he answered it almost before Alencon had dropped his arm back to his side.

"I have never been more glad to see a person in my life." Cinna said and pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind them. "I can't believe Luxuria made you stand there all day," he continued, shoving Alencon into a chair. "Don't your feet and back ache?"

Alencon shrugged.

"They must." Cinna insisted, "Here." He pulled the other chair closer and gestured, earning a questioning look from the other man. He rolled his eyes, "Give me your foot." he said, repeating the gesture.

Not sure at all where this was going, Alencon surrendered his foot, which Cinna pulled into his lap. He removed the worn slipper that was standard Avox wear and began to gently massage his foot, which did ache quite a bit. It felt like heaven and Alencon couldn't stop a soft gasp of pleasure from escaping his lips.

Cinna's hands froze. "Was that too hard? I'm sorry I-"

Alencon leaned forward and pressed his finger to Cinna's lips and gave him a look in which he tried to convey how good it felt and how grateful he was for the other man's kindness. He both felt and saw the smile that spread across Cinna's face as he continued running his thumbs in soft circles.

After a few minutes, he turned his attention to the other foot, sometimes chatting, sometimes sitting in silence. Once he was done with the second foot, he took one hand and slid it up the other man's calf, pushing up the soft cotton pants that were part of the capitol servant's uniform.

"You have lovely skin" Cinna commented as he began his massage anew. "Well, you have lovely everything truth be told-" he cut himself off abruptly as he realized what he'd said and cast his eyes downward. "I mean...you're very...beautiful. And I am very humiliated. So I am going to pretend that never happened."

Alencon reached over and used his finger to tilt Cinna's chin up, forcing the other man to look him in the eye. And what a look it was. He might as well have been speaking telepathically.

"_Don't be embarrassed. I feel the same way_." he said and unable to stop himself, he leaned forward another few inches and pressed his lips to Cinna's. The kiss was short, lasting no more than a second or two, but Alencon felt as if electricity had shot through him.

For several long seconds all they did was stare at one another.

Finally Cinna broke the silence. "That was...I mean I have never...can we do that again?" he sputtered.

Alencon laughed and kissed him again and again, each one longer than the first. When he had completely lost count, Cinna ran his tongue over the seam of Alencon's lips. When he gasped in surprise, Cinna seized the opportunity that his parted lips provided and slipped his tongue inside, running it over the top of Alencon's mouth and down into his soft palet, where the Avox's own tongue used to be.

Cinna pulled back a bit but kept his forehead pressed to Alencon's. "I've never done that with someone who..." his voice trailed off. "If you don't want me to...I mean I know it might remind you of...did it hurt? Did they even use anesthetic? Why did you-"

Alencon stemmed the flow of questions with another kiss, this one open mouthed. When Cinna's tongue found his mouth again, he sucked on it gently, eliciting a moan from the other man which he felt in his whole body.

This had been going on for several minutes now and the position was starting to get uncomfortable for them both. Alencon, broke the kiss and stood, hauling Cinna to his feet and gesturing to the bed. Cinna's hand came around to press into the small of his back, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush against one another.

Alencon stepped forward until they both fell onto the bed still pressed together. They rolled around a bit until they were both comfortable and were forced to come up for air.

"I could get used to that." Cinna declared. "You have to go soon don't you." it was said as a statement.

Alencon rolled over and pulled the pen and paper out of his pocket, scribbling out a message on the first page.

_I don't want to, but if I stay out late two nights in a row they are going to get suspicious._

Cinna read the note and frowned. "I wish you could stay here all night." he said, kissing him again.

_I know. I'll see you again tomorrow. I promise._

Cinna had been reading the second note upside down and replied before Alencon had finished. "Not soon enough, but I guess it will have to do." he said with a resigned look.

The Avox slid off the bed and put his shoes back on, a task made more difficult because Cinna was on his knees behide the chair, his arms around Alencon, pressing kisses against his neck. Finally he stood to go and Cinna followed him to the door.

"Tomorrow?" he said, stepping closer.

Alencon nodded, kissed him softly and reached for the door handle.

"Wait, one more question." Cinna said, laying one of his hands over Alencon's. "Can I call you Alen?" he asked, that soft smile from before on his face.

Alen. No one had called him that since before...the Avox nodded once and rushed out the door before he lost the willpower to leave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Lot of angst here, and a little bit of Finnick and Cesar. I hop you like it! Please enjoy and review! **

**Chapter 3**

They did see each other that day, and nearly every day after that, but they were continually thwarted in their attempts to be alone together. After a week of seeing nothing of Alen but what he saw while they both worked, Cinna sat on one of the plush leather couches watching the Tribute interviews. The Career tributes, of course, said all the right things. They had been trained for years in order to get a competitive edge.

Cinna had begun to tune out most of the interview. He had always thought that the Hunger Games themselves were barbaric and cruel, so he had allowed his mind to drift, mostly to Alen, until the male tribute from District 4 took the stage.

"…Finnick Odair!" Cesar shouted enthusiastically as the boy took the stage.

_He is so young_ Cinna thought as the small boy took his seat opposite Cesar. He couldn't have been more than 14 years old but he moved with a certain amount of confidence, and was very charming as he answered the questions the host threw at him. He was also quite good-looking. Tall for his age, he had the body of a swimmer, long and lean, and such classically handsome features he wouldn't have been out of place in Capitol society.

As the camera pushed in on his face, Cinna got the first good look at his eyes and in them he could see a fear and uncertainty that betrayed his calm exterior. Cinna felt his heart breaking for the boy.

The rest of the interviews went by painfully slow to Cinna's mind. When they were finally over, he rose from the couch and headed to his room. The Games started tomorrow and he had to be up at a ghastly hour to help Luxuria prepare. He sat at the edge of his bed to remove his shoes and saw a folded piece of paper sitting on his bedside table. He shook it open and recognized Alen's tidy script at once. His hands trembled as he began to read.

_Dear Cinna,_

_ I think this might be an odd thing to say of someone I see every day, but I miss you. This past week, seeing you, watching you work and laugh, and not being able to touch or kiss you is a hellish kind of torture. I haven't stopped thinking of the last night we were together. The memories haunt my dreams and waking hours alike._

_I don't want you to feel bad though. For all of this and more I will gladly endure if it means that I can call you mine. And I do hope I __can__ call you mine. I wish so much that the world in which we live had not become so twisted, so malignant, that I am sentenced to a life of servitude and silence instead of one that you could be proud of. But all that I have is yours. I pray it will be enough. Stay strong._

_Yours always,_

_Alen_

By the time Cinna finished the short letter, tears were streaming down his face. The week had been torture for him as well. And to find that Alen didn't think he was someone to be proud of was ridiculous to him. But he supposed that the life of an Avox probably didn't nurture self-confidence.

Cinna carefully refolded the letter and looked about for a place to keep it, settling for the lining of one of his bags. Exhausted moments before, he was now wide awake and set about writing Alen back immediately.

_Dear Alen,_

_ If it is odd to miss me then I do not know what is normal because I have missed you as well. As hard as it is to see you every day without sharing our usual closeness, it would be harder still to not see you. I have grown to crave the sight of you like a man dying of thirst longs for water. I don't want you to think that you are anything less than wonderful in my eyes. Only concern for your safety keeps me from shouting my pride in you from the top of the highest building in the Capitol. You will always be more than enough for me. _

_Yours as well,_

_Cinna_

Alen had read Cinna's letter at least eight times that day whenever he could find a private moment during his work since he had found it in Cinna's room that morning. Its author had left early that day for the arena booth to prepare Master Cesar for the opening of the Games. He would not return until late that night, so it wasn't likely that he would see him before tomorrow. As he tucked the letter back into his pocket, he wondered if they would ever get to be alone again.

Cinna circled the TV host, reaching out occasionally to straighten his powder blue suit, or remove hair or lint. "You're all set Mr. Flickerman." He said, his voice falsely bright.

"Thank you, my dear boy." He replied, the same brightness in his voice. Cesar Flickerman never seemed anything but one hundred percent genuine.

Cinna was never sure if the older man was an exceptional actor or if he really was just that happy all the time.

"Cinna, m'boy." He said, clapping Cinna on the shoulder hard enough that half his body was propelled forward a few inches, "I think you have a bright future in the business."

"Thank you, sir." He replied with a small smile. He was sure Cesar thought he was paying him the highest of compliments, but, while Cinna had always loved fashion, he didn't have much enthusiasm for 'the business' as the other man had called it. Being a stylist for the Games seemed like dressing children so they would look nice for the slaughter. "I think you're due in the booth soon, sir."

"Right, right, right." Cesar replied distractedly, heading in the direction of the booth where he would watch and comment on the 65th Annual Hunger Games. He paused a few feet from Cinna and turned. "How is the smile?" he asked and flashed his trademark, overly toothy grin.

"Perfect." Cinna said, trying hard not to laugh. As uncomfortable as he was with The Hunger Games, Cesar's enthusiasm was somewhat infectious.

"Then, let the games begin." He said. And with a wave of his hand he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**I am really sorry about the long wait for this one guys. My laptop gave up on life and it was in the shop for a while but I got it back a couple of days ago so I'm back in business now. Like the last chapter, Alen and Cinna won't have much alone time but I promise there will be some happiness soon. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to review.**

**Chapter 4**

Cinna's eyes had slid out of focus a long time ago so he didn't have to watch the games but he could still hear it. Hear the sounds of children dying and the sounds of the Capital citizens cheering it all on and it made him sick. He longed for an escape, for quiet, and most of all he longed for Alen. The Hunger Games had started just a few days ago and he hadn't seen the Avox for longer than a few seconds in nearly a month and it was killing him.

They had continued to exchange notes. There was one waiting for him each night and he left one for Alen every morning. A little more of Cinna's heart belonged to the other man every time he read one. Alen was the most intelligent, kind, loving person that Cinna had ever met. He slipped a hand into his pocket and smoothed his fingers over today's letter, which he had already read so many times he had it memorized.

_My Dearest Cinna,_

_ I saw what you described, the little girl from District 7 being killed. The images are inescapable and vile. I well understand the anger and pain that you feel, but to act now would surely mean your life. The Capital is not weak enough, nor are the districts strong enough to make a rebellion successful. I know it's hard it is but you must wait until the time is right. I value your life far too much to let you waste it. _

_Stay strong,_

_Alen_

Cinna took a deep breath, focusing on thoughts of Alen, trying to block out the sounds, but it wasn't working. Finally he fled the room, trying not to run, and ducked into the spacious bathroom. He leaned over the sink and stared at his refection in the guilt framed mirror. He looked pale, tired. He wasn't sure how much longer he could do this. When the door opened he spun around with a start but it was Alen, a faint smile on his face.

"Alen, what are you-?" he asked but Alen silenced him by pressing a finger to his own lips. He then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Cinna's waist, resting his head on the other boy's chest. Cinna returned the embrace and for several moments they just stood there, taking comfort in each other's touch.

An uproar of sound broke the spell, it seemed the viewing party was clearly excited about something. "I had better go see what's going on out there." Cinna said with a reluctant sigh.

Alen reached up and cupped his cheek gently and smiled. Cinna leaned in and pressed his lips briefly to Alen's in a quick kiss. "you'd better wait a moment after I go out there. I don't want to get you in trouble." He squeezed his shoulder one more time and left the bathroom.

The scene around the television was one of celebration. "What's going on?" he asked Crispin, who stood leaning against the wall.

"It's down to two." He explained. "The boy from district 4 is about to make his move."

In spite of himself, Cinna turned to watch. On the screen, a curly haired boy struggled against the confines of a net woven from thick vines. He looked about 15 years old and as the camera pushed in on the boy's dark brown eyes, Cinna's heart broke. He was terrified. In those eyes was the look of someone who knew they were going to die and couldn't do anything about it. The camera pulled back to capture Finnick approaching the trapped boy slowly and cautiously, his gold trident glinting in the sun. He was visibly shaking by the time he reached the other boy. Cinna had a sudden retch of guilt for being unable to remember his name before Finnick let loose a anguished shout and drove the trident into the other boy's chest and twisted it. Blood spurted from the wound for only a second before the boy twitched once and died. As much as he longed to, Cinna couldn't look away. Finnick Odair, now covered in blood, dropped to his knees. He had just become the victor, but he had never seen someone look so defeated. Suddenly the young boy tilted his head back to look at the camera above him. his tears smeared the blood covering his face and disbelief marred his features. Cinna could take no more, he turned to look the other way, only to see Alen standing near the door, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

As soon as the hovercraft had picked up both the body of the curly headed boy and Finnick Luxuria stood and waved her hands. "Look alive people, we have work to do, we need to get Cesar into his closing ceremonies suit!" she said, her voice even more grating now that she was in such a good mood. At her words, Cinna and the rest of the style team streamed out the door. He shot Alen a helpless look as he left the room.

…

Alen had been called to District 4's rooms shortly after the boy arrived. With some trepidation, he pushed open the door to the room where Finnick was to find the boy sitting on the edge of the bed, an older woman running her hand up and down his back. They had cleaned him up, an hour ago he had been covered in grime and blood but now, were it not for the pained look on his face he might have just taken a stroll down the block. The older woman looked up as he approached.

"hello dearie." She said, her voice was soft and kind. Alen liked her instantly. He nodded and gave her a quizzical look.

"I just need you to stay with him while I take care of a few things, dearie." She said and slowly stood up. Alen could tell it was hard for her, she was quite old and her joints were stiff. Alen moved quickly to help her up off the bed.

"Oh, thank you, love." She said briskly. "These old bones aren't what they used to be."

With an efficient sort of shuffle, the woman left the room, leaving Alen alone with the young victor. Without thinking, he sat down next to the boy and slid an arm around his shoulders. Finnick flinched but didn't pull away. After a minute, he spoke.

"I won." He said softly and looked up at Alen, who nodded, not sure what else to do.

"I don't feel like I won anything." He said, his voice breaking. Alen nodded again, starting to feel helpless.

"I almost forgot you can't talk." He said with a sigh. "You seem nice though. You can't have done anything that bad."

Rather than try to respond, Alen just tightened his grip and swallowed the lump in his throat.

The green room was chaos, people running and shouting and Cinna was having trouble focusing on any of it. He was absentmindedly dabbing makeup on Cesar's face when a voice rang out over the others. "Why is it that no one has bothered to do their job? That boy's pants are a full inch and a half too short." It was Luxuria, standing in the middle of the room next to Finnick's stylist who looked cowed.

"I'll fix it." said Cinna before he could stop himself.

Luxuria turned and fixed him with a predatory smile. "Being ambitious for once are we? She said nastily and then waved him away.

Cinna hastily stood and went into the dressing room where Finnick waited to be called. When he walked in, the young boy was sitting in one of the makeup chairs, staring at his own reflection.

"Master Finnick?" he said. The boy's head jerked up quickly, a wild sort of look in his eyes.

"Do you think I'm going to hell?" he asked, his tone tinged with desperation.

Cinna sighed and walked closer to him, "That's between you and Hell," he said as he knelt down. "I'm just the tailor." He pulled a sliver seam ripper from his pocket and began to let down the hem of the black dress slacks the boy wore.

"I killed all those other kids." Finnick said, his voice now hollow.

Cinna sat back on his heels and looked up at the boy. "You did," he said gravely "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"You're the first person to say that," said Finnick. "What's your name?"

"Cinna," he stylist said simply. "Master Finnick, did you want to kill those kids?" he asked.

"No, of course not."

"That's what I thought." Said Cinna, turning his attention to Finnick's other hem. "You did what you had to do to survive. It's not right and it's not fair but it is what it is. Until things change that's all you can do. Survive."

Cinna straightened. "All done," he said.

"Do you think things will ever change?" Finnick asked.

Cinna considered the question for a moment. "Yes. Yes I do."

"Victor on in 5" came a voice over the intercom system.

"I think that's your cue," said Cinna softly.

Slump shouldered, the young boy walked out of the room, but not before looking back at Cinna. He smiled, a smile that the casual observer would find to be that of someone who was happy to have won The Hunger Games, but his eyes were empty.

Cinna paced his room as he had been for the past hour. It had taken him ages to get away and he wasn't sure the note he'd left for Alen had gotten to him, or if he would be able to come.

Despite having been waiting for it, he jumped when a soft knock sounded at the door. He ran over and nearly ripped it off its hinges in his haste. When he saw Alen's face behind the door, he sagged against it in relief. Without a word, he pulled the other man inside and slammed the door behind them.

"I have never been so happy to see someone in all my life," he murmured against Alen's neck. The Avox ran his hands up and down Cinna's back finally he pulled back and looked into Cinna's eyes. "_Tell me,_" his look said, and he guided the other man to sit on the edge of the bed.

Once he started talking he couldn't stop. It was as if every fear and frustration he had since arriving at the capital was being burned out of him. when he was finally done, he covered his face with his hands. Alen carefully removed them and tilted Cinna's face up to look at him. looking into Alen's eyes, Cinna felt as though he was being put back together again, there was so much strength and compassion there that it was like a balm to his soul. He wrapped the Avox in a tight hug.

"Can you stay?" he asked. He felt Alen shake his head.

"I wish you could. I wish I could kiss you but you won't leave if we start that," he said pulling back and offering Alen a crooked smile.

The Avox smiled back and stood slowly, shooting Cinna a look.

"I'll be fine." He answered the silent question. "Having you here, holding you helped a lot."

With a final smile Alen slowly closed the door behind him, hoping Cinna would really be alright.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Cinna didn't see Finnick Odair after that day, but the look of loss in the young boy's face haunted him for many weeks afterward. He went through the motions of work, unable to shake the feeling of unease and restlessness that had overtaken him. Things in Panem were only getting worse. People like Finnick, young and afraid, forced to kill to survive for the sport of others, people like Alen, tortured and punished for unknown crimes with a lifetime of servitude and silence. It had to stop. The direction of his thoughts must have shown on his face because Crispin shot him a look.

"What's up with you?" he asked.

"Frustrated." He said sourly. "I'll tell you later."

Cinna had befriended Crispin almost as soon as they were introduced and he trusted the older man to be a discreet confidant. After Luxuria had finished with them, Cinna drug Crispin with him to the rooftop garden, a place where he liked to go to think. For a moment they just sat, watching the comings and goings down on the street.

"Well," said Crispin expectantly. "What's up?"

"I don't know if I can do this anymore Crispin." Cinna said quietly, not looking at the other man.

"Do what, kid?"

"This!" Cinna said, gesturing wildly to encompass the view before them. "Pretend that all of this is right!"

Crispin's expression turned serious. "Does this have something to do with that Avox boy you keep making moon eyes at?" he asked.

Cinna's cheeks heated and he lowered his head. He didn't realize he had been quite so obvious.

Crispin smiled fondly at him, taking his clear embarrassment as an answer and continued speaking. "When I was about your age I was in the same situation you know?" he said. "There was a girl brought here around the same time I was. She was beautiful: blonde hair, blue eyes…she was an Avox. She had struggled when they cut her tongue out so she had a scar that stretched the corner of her mouth. She thought it made her ugly, but I didn't. I was in love. We stole away whenever we could. I had big plans to take her away and marry her. It never happened though. She got sick. They could have cured her but they didn't. Just let her die, alone." Crispin's voice broke on the last word and Cinna realized he was crying.

'That's…"He said. He had no words. If that were Alen, dying alone…he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Crispin." He said softly.

The older man wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and patted Cinna's shoulder. "Don't you worry." He said bracingly. "That won't happen to your young man. We won't let it."

Cinna smiled sadly "It's not just him, although that's a big part of it. It's the games as well." Cinna ran a hand over his face. "That boy, Odair, he is broken now." He said. "He's a kid. No one should ever have to go through something like that."

"I agree." Said Crispin solemnly. "There are lots of people that think as you do, that feel like something should be done."

"There are?" Cinna said incredulously. He had never seen anyone in the Capital that seemed less than thrilled with the way things were.

"Yes. People have been meeting in secret all over Panem, Cinna. The seeds of rebellion are being sown. There is a meeting tomorrow night, in fact." He said. Cinna had rarely seen Crispin this impassioned. "Come with me." The older man said, gripping Cinna's arm and fixing him with bright eyes.

"Okay." Said Cinna. He wasn't sure how Alen would feel about him getting involved in this. In fact he wasn't sure how he felt himself but he couldn't do nothing. He couldn't let what had happened to Crispin's love happen to Alen.

Crispin smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "We had best get back before we're missed." He said. "I will come and get you tomorrow." With a conspiratorial wink, Crispin stood and headed back inside.

Alen was sitting on Cinna's bed when he got back. He was unable to stop the huge smile that spread across his face at the sight.

Alen returned the smile as he stood, then shot the other man a quizzical look.

"I was with Crispin." He said, then swallowed hard. "I need to tell you something."

With a look of concern, Alen guided Cinna to sit down on the bed and Cinna repeated the conversation he had had with his old friend. Alen didn't move for several moments, staring straight ahead. With a deep breath he turned to Cinna and slid a hand up to cup his cheek.

"I know you don't want me to risk my life by getting involved right now but—"

He was cut off when Alen turned and grabbed the pen and paper that was now a constant fixture on Cinna's nightstand and began to write. Cinna fought against a desire to read over his shoulder, worrying his hands together until Alen was done and pushed the pad into his hands.

_You are right, I don't wish for you to risk your life, but I also know you. You do not have it in you to allow an injustice to continue. If you feel that you must do this I will support you. Just be careful, love. _

"Thank you." Cinna said with a smile and leaned forward to brush his lips against Alen's. "Love?" he asked with a grin.

Alen's look sobered him. The Avox framed his face with both hands and kissed him softly and nodded. _"Yes. Love." _

"I love you too." Cinna whispered.

Alen's face transformed at the words. It was almost as if he had been suddenly lit from within. Smiling widely, he cupped his hand around the back of Cinna's head and kissed him hard. He wasn't sure if it was because Alen could not speak, or if it was just him, but he seemed to be pouring everything into the kiss.

They both fell sideways onto the bed, hands sliding gently over first clothing, then bare flesh. This was a slow exploration of each other's bodies such as neither one of them had ever experienced. Cinna reveled in every moan and sigh he was able to draw from Alen, particularly the one that sounded loudly through the room as he met his release. Their hands and mouths were never still, and Alen seemed to be skilled at finding just the right places to touch that sent Cinna over the edge.

When they were both sated, they lay in each other's arms, unwilling to break the physical contact.

"I have never felt this much this fast." Cinna whispered. "It's a little frightening. Everything is frightening lately." He looked at Alen, with a smile. "As long as I have you I can brave anything." He was able to read the response in his lover's eyes.

"_You have me. Forever."_

"Can you stay tonight?" Cinna asked. "I don't think I can let you go."

Alen nodded. There might be unhappy consequences later, but he would deal with them then. For now he couldn't bring himself to leave.

…

Cinna was on edge as he and Crispin made their way through the city streets. Crispin however was in a buoyant mood. "Relax, kid." He said with a mischievous grin, "People will think you're up to something."

In spite of his tension, Cinna smiled. His older companion abruptly turned off the street and into a slightly dingy alley.

"Through here." Crispin directed, opening a door that Cinna wouldn't have noticed on his own.

On the other side was what looked like a storage room for a restaurant or store, stacks of boxes lined the walls and ropes of sausages hung from the ceiling. In the center of the room was a large wooden table, scattered with charts, maps, and files.

There were several other people in the room. One was an old man in an apron, probably the proprietor of whatever store they were in. There was also a man that Cinna recognized immediately.

"Mr. Heavensbee?" he said, shocked.

"Cinna, m'boy." He said jovially. "Glad you could make it."

Their conversation had drawn the attention of one of the two women in the room and she was now staring at Cinna intently. She was a plain woman, her long gray hair hung in a sheet down her back and her piercing gray eyes seemed to burn a hole in him. He knew without speaking to her that she must be a cold, hardened sort of person.

The Capital official noticed Cinna looking at the woman and called her over. "Cinna, this is Alma Coin. Alma, this is Cinna." He said gesturing for them to shake hands.

Alma Coin took Cinna's hand in an iron grip. "Pleasure." She said, although her tone suggested that she took no pleasure in meeting him at all.

It was then that he was rescued by Crispin who introduced him to the other people in the room. The man in the apron, Percival, was indeed owner of the deli that they were meeting in. There were two former Hunger Games victors—a man and a woman—and another man so large that Cinna couldn't believe he hadn't noticed him before who had come with Ms. Coin. They stood about for only a few more seconds before Ms. Coin called the meeting to order. Her cold, but quiet voice, rang clearly though the room.

"Thank you all for coming here today." She said with a smile. It seemed to Cinna that she must not have much practice smiling. "Your dedication will one day be rewarded." At this point she began to pace across a short expanse of the room. "We believe that the key to taking down President Snow lies in the Games." She said.

A few people looked as though they had heard this before and nodded enthusiastically. Others simply listened.

Ms. Coin went on to outline her plan, which was clearly far from complete. Alen had been right; they were many years from the kind of move that the gray woman spoke of. She wished to insert people in the Games as tributes that the public could get behind, people that would ban together to destroy the Games from the inside.

"I do believe that Boggs has something to report on that front." She said, turning to the large man who stepped forward, his posture and stride military perfect.

"We have been looking in the far-lying districts." He said. "We have not approached anyone as of yet. I don't think most of the districts are thinking past their own troubles at the moment." He said and then quickly stepped back.

Coin reclaimed her place at the head of the room. "As you see, this task is not for the flighty or faint of heart." She said, fixing her cold eyes on each of them in turn. "If we are to succeed in replacing tyranny with equality, we must have people who are committed to the long game. If you are not, I suggest you go back to the safety of your home." When no one moved, she flashed them another one of those ill-used smiles. "We must go. It won't do to linger in one place too long." With that, she turned and marched out into the alley, Boggs following without a word.

"So, what did you think?" Crispin asked as they walked back that night.

Cinna was nervous. As soon as they had stepped out the door there had been far too many people hanging about and they all seemed to be watching them. Trying not to look over his shoulder, Cinna replied. "Ms. Coin seems to know what she's doing." He said softly. "She seemed a bit…" he trailed off, not wanting to be rude.

"Hard-assed?" Crispin asked with a laugh.

Cinna laughed as well. "A little."

They were forced to switch the conversation to less inflammatory topics as they got closer to the Capital building. Cinna headed to his room, wishing he could talk to Alen. He hadn't seen his lover since that morning. He had left before Cinna woke up but he had seen the other man in Cesar's chambers, seeming none the worse for wear. In the note that he had left that morning, he had been warned that they could not see each other for a few days in order to save Alen any trouble. As disappointed as Cinna had been at this, he was more than willing to avoid causing trouble for the Avox.

He settled into bed and closed his eyes, imagining Alen's arms around him as he drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Two years later**

The sun beat down mercilessly as if in defiance of the somber occasion as the funeral precession wound its way through the capital. Cinna fought the urge to fan his overheated face as he followed behind the elaborate sarcophagus that held the remains of Luxuria Matheson.

Three days ago, Cinna and the rest of the style team had shown up for work to find that their difficult boss had not. After a brief search, she was discovered on the floor of her bathroom dead from a heart attack that the doctors believed must have been brought on by stress. Cinna had maintained the same grave expression in regards to the stylist's death but he could not find it in himself to be too upset. He had, after all, hated the woman.

Directly outside the capital building, all the officials not involved in the ceremony and servants lined the street, and Cinna was able to catch Alen's eye as he walked past. The handsome Avox gave him as soft, supportive look. Cinna held his lover's gaze until the grim parade moved past him.

After a ceremony that lasted nearly two hours, featuring speeches from many capital officials and more than a few celebrities, Cinna made his way home with Crispin, chatting as he went.

"I can't say I'm sorry the old bat is dead." Said Crispin when they made it to their suite. "You'll make a much better boss."

"Don't speak ill of the dead." Cinna scolded but without much conviction.

Crispin merely laughed. "You might want to ditch the thunder cloud, because I see someone coming who isn't going to appreciate it."

Cinna looked up to find Alen walking toward them, a serene expression on his face. Despite the time that had passed, the excitement of seeing his lover had not faded. He grinned and stretched out his hand. Alen took it and Crispin cleared his throat loudly.

"I think that's my cue." He said and clapped both men on the back and retreated to his own room.

"So, I have the night off." Cinna said, tugging on the hand that was still gripping his until Alen was pressed against him. The Avox raised an eyebrow in question.

"Bereavement leave." He explained. "But under the circumstances I feel a little more like celebrating that grieving." With that, he pressed his lips to Alen's quickly then led him into the bedroom where they remained for the rest of the afternoon.

After nearly a year, during which Alen and Cinna spent every possible moment together, Cinna mentioned his relationship with the Avox boy to Alma Coin telling the rebel leader of Alen's offer to aid the cause. The next day, Alen became Cinna's personal servant. Cinna suspected that Mr. Hevensby, who had been present at that particular meeting, had something to do with this turn of events but the capital official wouldn't admit as much. Nevertheless he was grateful, as it allowed the two men to spend even more time together.

Alen and Cinna ate their evening meal in Cinna's room, feeding each other little morsels of food between kisses. Alen stood to gather the tray but Cinna stopped him.

"Leave it." he said.

Alen picked up the note pad and wrote, tossing it in Cinna's lap before leaving the room. Cinna watched him leave with a bemused expression before reading what he had written.

_I am going to take this to the kitchen now because I will get in trouble if I leave it until morning and once I start what I have planned I won't be leaving until morning._

Cinna grinned and got out of bed. He didn't bother to dress, simply putting on his robe and wandered into the sitting room. A few minutes later Alen returned, finding himself pressed against a wall as soon as he stepped through the door. Cinna kissed him hard.

"I can't believe you're mine sometimes." He said against Alen's lips. "You're so perfect." He murmured before returning to the kiss, breaking it only long enough to pull Alen's shirt up over his head.

After a few more minutes of kissing, Cinna began to blaze a trail downward with his lips, teeth and tongue, stopping occasionally to pay particular attention to the spots he knew would cause Alen to moan.

When he began to work is way down Alen's ribs with his tongue, the Avox made a strangled noise that might have been Cinna's name if he had had a tongue of his own to articulate it. Nevertheless, it was the sexiest thing Cinna had ever heard.

When he reached Alen's navel, he felt the other man's hips jerk and felt him grip the sides of his head and tug upward. When Cinna met Alen's eyes, the irises had darkened to a deep green and his pupils were dilated with desire.

He pulled Cinna to his feet and half dragged him into the bedroom where they remained for the rest of the night.

…..

After Luxuria's death, life settled into a more or less happy pattern for Cinna and Alen. Cinna attracted quite a bit of critical acclaim for his work as Caesar Flickerman's new head stylist, and worked against the Capital in secret. The rebellion was growing in size but even 4 years after Cinna's first meeting, they were a long way from achieving their goals. Plans had been refined and revised again and again but none of them could be carried out until they were able to unify the districts and so far they lacked a way to do that.

"Johanna, I appreciate your enthusiasm but, simply killing Snow is not going to solve anything." Said Alma, glaring at the former victor.

"But it would be fun." Johanna said petulantly, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring back.

"Miss Mason, if you cannot exercise a modicum of self-control over your homicidal tendencies, then I suggest you take them elsewhere." Alma said calmly and turned back to the rest of the group, missing the younger woman's tongue darting out of her mouth in a gesture of contempt.

"As I was saying," she went on, "I believe what we are missing is the inspiration to change the status quo."

Cinna, who had been silent the whole meeting, suddenly spoke up. "What about the tributes?"

Every head turned in Cinna's direction and he swallowed hard. "What if we could find a tribute that would join the cause and inspire some of the leaders in the district to follow suit?" He said. "Someone with that much public exposure would be just what we need; no matter if they won or lost."

Cinna had been thinking about this idea for a long time. As callous as it seemed to use a terrified adolescent to farther the agenda of the rebellion, he knew that drastic measures were going to be taken if they were going succeed.

The room was quiet for several seconds until Alma finally broke it. "You might have something there, young man." Even after all this time, Alma rarely called him by his name, only "young man." "But we are out of time. We'll have to discuss that later." This signaled the end of the meeting it seemed, because everyone dispersed.

Cinna told Alen about the meeting as soon as he got home.

_Are you really going to bring one of those kids into this? _He wrote.

"I don't like it either but no one else is in that kind of position." Cinna replied. "Maximum public exposure with no previous political connections, plenty of reason to hate the Capital, and more than enough opportunity to elicit sympathy from not only their district, but the others too…it would be foolish not to at least consider it."

_I suppose you're right, but it's so dangerous._

"So is entering an arena where 24 kids go in and only one comes out. They have no choice but to do so." Cinna countered. "At least this would be their choice."

_If you are looking out for them, my love, I think they have every chance of success._

"Why, I am touched." Cinna said, grinning and pressing a hand to his chest. "I had no idea you thought so highly of me."

With an exaggerated eye roll, Alen moved closer on the bed and settled against Cinna's chest. He used Cinna's stomach as a desk to write his next message.

_ I know you would never let anything happen to a tribute if you could prevent it. I know the fact that you still haven't been able to stop the slaughter kills you. And I know that you won't give up until the Hunger Games are a thing of the past._

"Do you think that we can do it?" Cinna asked sleepily. Alen nodded and sat up to look at him. The look conveyed just how much faith Alen had in Cinna and the others and their cause.

Cinna leaned up to kiss him softly, "Thank you." He whispered, pushing his fingers through Alen's hair. The other man lay back down on Cinna's chest and the two very quickly fell asleep.

The games were six months after Cinna first proposed his plan at the rebellion meeting. After some subtle investigation, he realized that none of the tributes would be able to do what they were asking.

He was a strange mixture of relief and disappointment as he got Cesar ready for the opening ceremonies.

"Cinna, my boy, I have a feeling this is going to be a good year for the Games." Cesar said. "A real nail-biter."

"I'm sure it will be sir." Cinna murmured as he helped the older man into his jacket.

Cesar always said something like this, and Cinna had often wondered if his unwavering enthusiasm was an act. "Break a leg, Mr. Flickerman." Cinna said.

"Thank you, my boy." Cesar replied and started to walk away. Just before he walked out the door he turned back. "Cinna…be careful." He said shooting the stylist a significant look.

Cinna wasn't sure if the Games host knew about the rebellion and his involvement or if he was talking about something else.

"I will, sir." Cinna said with conviction.

Cesar flashed his trademark smile and was gone.


End file.
